


The Missing Frame

by CandyMonroe



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Crack, Edward Cullen is a fairy, F/M, Fighting, M/M, Multi, Not like Twilight, Vampires, confused, extreme violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyMonroe/pseuds/CandyMonroe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single crack of a twig underfoot and he altered his direction, now heading straight towards me.</p>
<p>After an eventful night, Brendon and Ryan are suddenly plagued by new feelings. Can they satisfy their thirst for blood?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is actually originally posted on FicWad, but someone massively kicked off at me for reasons and people didn't want to get involved so I deleted the entire post and reposted it a lot later. Never gained the same level of interest so I though I would bring it over here!
> 
> I kind of love this, it was fun to write...but if you're squeamish, maybe it's not for you.

_Being bitten by a vampire is extremely unsatisfying. There’s no brink of death, no bright white lights and not much excruciating pain to make the next eternity of life worth it._  
 _In fact, it’s pretty boring._  
 _It’s like getting the tiniest bit drunk and waking up with a stupidly massive hangover the next morning. I should know, I was bitten by my best friend, Brendon. I don’t know who turned him, all I remember is racing through the park with him following me after a childish game of ‘Tag’._  
  
 **part one**  
  
“Ryan, where are you?!” I kept silent, tiptoeing slowly in an attempt to defer him from my route through the dark trees, hoping to gain some distance between me and my pursuer. A single crack of a twig underfoot and he altered his direction, now heading straight towards me. I panic, breaking into a sprint and crashing blindly through the long grass hoping to reach the safety of the lit path I know is somewhere in front of me.  
  
Within moments, two strong arms wrap around my waist and drag me to the ground where I’m pinned in an extremely undignified position. My trousers - having snagged on a small branch – are falling down and my hair is slicked back from my face with sweat.  
  
“BULLDOG!” A gleeful voice screams from above me.  
  
“Bulldog?” I break into a small giggle feeling the weight holding me down leave so I can push myself to my feet and drag my trousers back up.  
  
“Yeah, it’s what English kids shout when they catch each other. It’s like a game of tag or kiss chase. But instead of smacking people, you tackle them.” We’re walking back to the path now, occasionally nudging each other into trees or posts and sidestepping the only other visitor to this park. Brendon is patting his pockets when he suddenly stops. “Shit. I think my phone fell out when I took you down.” He looks up at me with a worried look on his face. “I’m just gonna’ run back and get it. Meet you at the gate in 10?”  
  
I just nod and smile, letting him run back into the black abyss as I carry on silently, singing to myself in my head. I reach the bench and sit down as I begin humming and wait for Brendon to return.  
  
12 minutes later – not that I’m keeping time – he appears, slowly emerging from the darkness. He seems a bit slower than he usually it is but I just flash him a smile, “Tired?” He nods numbly but he doesn’t look at me. He’s glancing around aimlessly and I can’t help but ask him if he’s alright. Once again he just nods and I narrow my eyes in concern but let it drop as we set off once again.  
  
We’re just past the tall green gates that mark the entrance of the park when he tackles me again. “BULLDOG!”  
  
“What the hell, Bren?! I thought we were done with that?” He’s not listening though, suddenly kissing me hard and short on my lips before picking himself off me and running off back into the park, sticking his tongue out at me and shouting “Bet you can’t catch me!”  
  
My fingers automatically reach up to touch my own lips in shock as he retreats into the distance. I sit up when a shadow crosses my body on the ground. “Hey kid, you okay?” I’m being pulled to my feet by a stranger and I blink once – twice – before responding.  
  
“Uh, yeah… playing tag with my friend.”  
  
“Aren’t you a bit old for that?” His face crinkles into amusement as he takes my appearance in. His eyes are cast in shadow due to the hat placed on his head, but I swear I can see them glinting in the dim light.  
  
I just shrug, mumbling a “S’pose so.” and a thanks before smiling meekly and turning to find Brendon. After a few minutes of searching I find him hiding behind a tree and giggling, so I grab him and mutter “bulldog” as his giggling intensifies.  
  
“You better run Ry, I’m ‘it’ now and I’m fast.” He grins, bearing his teeth and widening his eyes. “In fact, I’ll give you a head start, I’ll count to twenty.” He closes his eyes. “One, two – are you running? – three, four, f-” I run, not sure when this turned into a game of hide-and-seek but I don’t stop running until I can hear him no longer counting. I throw myself into a bush and out the other side back into the field where he caught me before.  
  
I repeat my actions, tiptoeing as quietly as I can. I step on something hard and look down, seeing Brendon’s phone resting in a dirt mound. My eyes screw up into confusion as I pick it up, wiping my half footprint off the top where I stood and slipping it into my pocket. It’s barely moments before I’m being tossed to the ground by an overly joyful Brendon who’s screaming “bulldog” as loud as he possibly can.  
  
Before I can pull myself to my feet and ask him about his phone, he’s on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head. The giggling subsides into something more serious as he leans closer, brushing our noses. I know what’s coming and turn my head to the side so his lips meet my cheek, but he grabs my face and looks me dead in the eyes. “Don’t struggle Ryan, I don’t want to hurt you.” I stop wriggling at that. Hurt me? I’m paralyzed in fear at the underlying threat in his words as his hand runs between us along my chest. His lips meet mine and it’s longing and desperate and oh-so-messy, but as his hand slips under my shirt trailing along my skin, I respond with just as much force.  
  
My own hands lift to wrap around his neck but as I touch the skin on the side, he flinches. “Ryan, Ry, not there... I don’t know how- just, it’s so new- I don’t know what I’m doing, I just need to. Ry... .Ryan, do you trust me?” I can only nod, assuming he’s talking about us entwined as we are. I lift my head to kiss him again but he grabs my face again, twisting it sharply to the side and I yelp in pain. “Sorry, so sorry, I don’t want this to hurt, I just want- this, this needs to happen, I don’t want to be alone…” I’m confused until he sinks his teeth down into my neck and a sharp pain spreads down my body, followed quickly by pleasure and my vision goes black.  
  
My eyes fly open to find Brendon pulling at my belt buckle. My body doesn’t seem to want to move and my lips form soundless words as he pulls my jeans past my knees, my boxers following. My eyes widen as he pulls his own skinny jeans down, wriggling out of them and tossing them to the side. His shirt is already off and he lowers down on top of me again. Noticing my eyes open, he pouts. “I was out for 10 minutes, you pretty much blinked. That’s not fair.” He kisses me again, lips moulding together as I gradually get my senses back albeit a little fuzzy. I don’t know what I’m doing as I pull him closer, gripping his hips tightly. My neck stings where he bit me and I can feel all vision fading again quickly. I struggle to pull myself into reality as I slowly slip away into the comfort of black nothing.  
  
\---  
  
My first thought is that I’m never drinking with Brendon again. I’m flat on my back on the stairs up to his apartment with him slumped next to me. I can hear footsteps coming down the stairwell towards us and I shove Brendon who groans quietly to himself. The old lady who lives down from him glares at us both as she passes, clearly disgusted at us. Ready to vomit, we hold on tightly to each other as we stumble up to our feet, trudging along to his place.  
  
“Where’s your key?” I ask as he stands in front of the door looking thoroughly confused. He’s feeling round every pocket with his teeth gripping his lip in a deadly lock.  
  
“They were in my jeans pock…” He fades away as he looks down, his eyebrows furrowing together in perplexity. “Uh, Ryan… why are you wearing my jeans?” My eyes dart straight down to my legs to realise he’s right, I’m in his jeans and he’s in mine. I shrug, reaching into both pockets to find the key. I pull it out almost proudly, gripping the cool metal in my fingers and twisting it in the lock.  
  
As soon as I step past the door, my stomach churns and I race to the bathroom reaching the toilet bowl just in time to empty my guts. I stand up with blurred eyes, one hand pressed to my throbbing forehead, the other clutching my stomach. My eyes catch sight of myself in the mirror and I lean into it as Brendon shouts at me. “I hate you Ryan Ross! You got me drunk again when I distinctly told you not to! You’re a-”  
  
“Hey Bren, do you actually remember drinking anything last night? Because I don’t…” As soon as he appears at the door with a scowl fixed firmly on his face, I feel a wave of lust run through me and I remember everything. I grab his arms, pulling him towards me and in for a kiss. “Do you remember? Do you remember this?” I lick a stripe along the bruised cut that runs along his neck, causing him to shiver. He pushes me back, pressing me against the wall and trapping me with his body. Smirking, he pulls on my hair, before leaning into me with a whisper of “I do.”, his warm breath tickling my neck as he bites gently into my matching mark. I can feel him suck hard on the skin before my head sparks with pain. He pulls away at the same time with a groan and sinks to the floor, clutching his own head.  
  
“What’s going on Ry?” he whispers, eyes welling with tears as all passion between us diminishes. I seat myself next to him, resting my head against his shoulder. “Why are we like this? You’re my friend. Just my friend. We’ve been just friends for years. What is it about this-” He pointed at his neck. “-that makes us act like this? Where did this come from?!”  
  
“You bit me, that’s where this started for me.”  
  
He smiles sadly, resting his own head on top of mine and running his fingers through his hair. “I remember that, I remember everything except for when I went to get my phone. I remember biting you, I remember getting you home when you passed out, and I remember climbing the steps here. I just don’t remember this fucking mark!”  
  
“I have an idea; I just don’t want you to freak or anything or think I’m crazy.” Brendon just blinks in an attempt to fight back tears, shrugging as I take a breath and will myself to carry on. “Well, you know like in films and stuff, when people find bites on their necks and like it creates this bond sort of thing, like what we are. Well maybe… I don’t know…”  
  
“Vampires?” His eyes widen as he thinks about it, suddenly pulling us both to our feet. My head spins and I can see him pale, but he regains his composure as he pulls us along towards his room. I try to tug my arm free from his grip as I try and figure out his intentions, but I can’t. He’s always been stronger than me and now he’s got his head fixed on something. He throws me onto the bed and I panic, not feeling anything sexual towards him, but he just climbs over me to the other side, picking his laptop from the desk next to it and opening up the internet browser.   
  
His fingers move quickly, eyes skimming through the pages as he takes in information. His eyes suddenly widen in disbelief as he spins the laptop towards me. “He comes up when I search vampires?! He’s a fucking fairy!” A picture of a sparkling Edward Cullen adorns the full screen and I laugh out loud, but Brendon doesn’t see the humour. “Don’t fucking laugh, what if we sparkle? It might happen! That is, if we really are vampires. It makes sense except…” He suddenly pushes me from the bed. “Did it hurt?”  
  
“Yes!” I stand up rubbing my butt from where I landed. “It did hurt thanks!”  
  
“I wonder if we can fly.” He stares across at the window and I back away, shaking my head.  
  
“No. No, we are not jumping out of the window. Don’t even try it.” He raises an eyebrow with a smirk fixed on his face. “No.” He just pouts, before standing up on the bed and leaping off towards me, flapping his arms manically. He lands, and trips towards me, so I move out of the way and let him tumble into the wall. I chuckle, “Seems you can’t walk through walls either, Bren.”  
  
He just growls in response, picking himself from the floor and rubbing his head. “Could have caught me.” He heads towards the bed again before stopping, his eyes lighting up. His eyes flicker between me and the window and I step back again. “Hey Ry…” I glare at him suspiciously, waiting for him to continue. “Do you think sunlight…?” He grabs me suddenly, forcing my hand out of the window into direct sunlight. I let out a piercing scream and start to writhe in pain, trying to yank my arm back inside. He stares at me in shock and pulls me back, sitting me on the bed. “RYAN! Ryan, shit, I’m so sorry. What is it? Burn? Do you need a cold compress? Uh, do you need a hospital? Shit! Oh fuck, fuck fuck! Are you crying? Oh God, don’t cry!” He’s mumbling quickly, his eyes wide and panic etched into his features. The tears leak down my cheeks as I collapse backwards onto the bed, laughing hysterically.  
  
“I’m fine!” I choke out the two words as I try to catch my breath. “No burning, nothing. I was kidding with you. Just next time, please don’t stick my hand out of the window to satisfy your own curiosity.” I’m laughing again, earning myself a punch from Brendon.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as his body hits the ground, he’s struggling, pulling himself to his feet in an attempt to escape, but I bring my boot down heavily on his chest, pinning him...

After a few hours of mindless experimenting we lay on the floor next to each other, staring at the ceiling in disappointment. We can’t fly, we don’t burn in the sun – or sparkle for that matter – we don’t have fangs, we don’t have a constant urge to eat people, ‘normal’ food isn’t tasteless, our skin doesn’t heal straight away and garlic doesn't leave us cowering in a corner.  
  
“I don’t think we’re vampires, Ry.” I tilt my head to look at him with a small smile on my face. “I mean, vampires are these mythical creatures that do crazy, illegal shit. I think we just got caught up in what was happening. Like when we were kids and agreed we would be pirates and tried to mug that kid at school.”  
  
“Aye, give us yer loot, me matey. With those broken plastic swords…” I chuckle at the memory. “What about that innocent little first year who seriously thought we were vampires? I feel bad for him now; we shouldn’t have done anything to him.”  
  
“You were the one who went along with it; although his face was priceless when you turned up in the pale makeup. What was it you said?”  
  
“’I haven’t had a tasty little human in a long time. You have one day to say your goodbyes to your loved ones before I come for you.’”  
  
We reminisce for most of the evening, chuckling at our own antics, but it’s not long before we’re stood outside a brightly lit club, disappointed with our false epiphany and intending to ‘drown our sorrows’, so to speak – this coming in the form of 6 tequila shots and endless amounts of vodka.  
  
I can feel the alcohol burning my throat, the stench of sweat mixes with lust and I can sense the testosterone dripping from gyrating bodies as I move to the rhythm. Brendon has a tight hold of my hips, grinding his growing bulge against my ass and I can feel a change in both of us. We get steadily faster with the pounding music, Brendon nipping at my shoulder until his teeth break the skin and I feel his incisors grip the flesh. My own guttural moan is nothing that compares to his as his tongue laps at the sensitive flesh, feverishly licking up the blood. His fingers are flexing, pulling me closer, tongue moving swiftly and I twist my head, forcing his lips to my own.  
  
My body twists in his hands and he immediately responds, my blood mixing between our dancing tongues. As soon as I taste the copper, my body tingles as though the air around me is charged and I press my lips harder to Brendon’s own. Everything around us is lost as we fight for the remaining drops of blood lingering between our mouths. I bite down hard on his lip, my teeth scraping through the skin easily and drawing out the blood as I suck on the fresh wound.  
  
It’s sweet.  
  
So sweet.  
  
Nothing around me matters as the blood weighs heavy on my tongue like liquid gold. My vision is obscured by the darkness clouding my eyes and every other sense heightens as I push Brendon back through the crowds. Our bodies part for a moment as we reach the back door and our hands grapple wildly for the handle. Discontentment and pain washes through my body as we separate and I feel as though my lungs were suddenly filled with cement as I struggle to breathe in. My chest tightens impossibly more as I see the blood glistening on his lips and I fight his hands from the handle to twist him back into myself. My own hand snakes round his back, giving the door a sharp shove and I feel it leave the hinges, slamming back against the wall beside it before dropping to the ground.  
  
Our tongues are fighting for dominance as the blood begins to dry around our lips and I let out a frustrated groan, pulling him outside and pushing him up against the wall. I move my lips swiftly down his jaw, placing butterfly kisses on the tight skin temptation overwhelming me to bite as I sink my teeth into his neck. Guilt takes a hold of me for a moment as his breath hitches and my name stutters painfully from his lips, but the feeling is replaced by lust almost immediately as I feel the hot blood wet my lips. I press my forehead into his shoulder as my eyes clench shut and I moan. My tongue darts across his skin, revelling in the sweet taste as I nibble at some more untouched flesh. My cheek is pushed tightly against my first bite, smearing the blood down the side of my face and I sigh, hot breath fanning out across him bare skin.  
  
“Fuck, Ry…” His hips buck sharply against mine, bringing me back to sharp reality and I pull away, gazing wide-eyed at him. His face is pale in stark contrast to the red mess adorning the left side of his neck and his t-shirt is beginning to soak up where the blood is settling on his clothes. He’s never looked so amazing.  
  
He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he slowly lifts a single long digit to his mouth and bites gently on the tip, breaking the skin and sucking on it to draw blood. My mouth almost waters at his perfect lips wrapped around his finger and I want it; I unconsciously lick my lips.  
  
Within seconds I’m being pinned to the wall and he’s holding his finger in front of my face, both of us focused in on the drop of blood on the end. My tongue reaches out to touch it, but he pulls it away, using his other hand to pin my head in place, pulling my hair back against the wall. My tongue is still stretched out, millimetres from the drop. I know that if I taste it, it will drive me wild, making me yearn for it even more. Small begging noises escape my throat as my tongue retracts and I feel embarrassed until I see the twinkle in his eye. I go slightly cross-eyed as I follow his finger up to my forehead before I close them in anticipation.  
  
As soon as he touches me, it’s like a spark of electricity is fired down my body and my eyes squeeze together tighter as my breath hitches in my throat. He pulls his finger down across the bridge of my nose, jumping from the tip to my lips where I groan, my tongue jumping out quick enough to savour the taste on his finger.  
  
His finger moves and he’s suddenly kissing me hard, any remaining thoughts of decency are gone and his hand is snaking between our bodies to where are hips are grinding roughly into each other. My body whines with loss as his crotch moves from mine but his hand is on my zipper, pulling it down hurriedly as he nips at my lips and my tongue, the blood like ecstasy being passed between us. His teeth are sharper, I noticed that from way back in the club and I can guess mine are the same and suddenly I’m scared.  
  
What are we?  
  
My thoughts are pushed aside as his cold hand meets my straining erection. I gasp, pulling away instinctively and he chuckles to himself as he drags my lip out between his teeth. A smirk is fixed on his lips and he dips his head to my collarbone, biting harder than before and making my back arch from the wall in pleasure. He continues down my body, my shirt ripping in places beneath his teeth as blood blossoms to the surface. His bites are getting deeper and bigger each time until he reaches just above my cock and he bites so hard I yell out, writhing back into the bricks in pain. I can feel the blood dripping, creating tracks downwards towards my aching cock and suddenly he’s swirling the blood along my shaft, massaging it into the flesh with a skilled tongue and my eyes are rolling back into my head.  
  
By the time we leave the alley, we’re in shock. The door lay dented on the floor and we were covered in blood. Our hair was matted and sticky, our clothes streaked with stains, dirt and blood littering our jeans. I can feel each of the wounds stinging, the memories of tonight ensuring they’ll be etched into my skin for a long time. The sex was fuelled by pure lust, the taste of the blood immediately numbing our senses to the world around us and drawing us closer to intimacy we could never have imagined before. Brendon’s walking with a limp, wincing with each step he takes and I wrap an arm round him, supporting him. I feel guilty for hurting him, but I barely know what came over me.  
  
Throughout the whole night, Brendon’s eyes were as black as the sky behind him and it was as though he wanted to touch every inch of my body. The bloodlust drove him to a new level, biting every exposed inch on my body and always wanting more. Now he’s just quiet, gripping onto me as I steady him, helping him walk. His weight hanging from my arm keeps me awake and alert enough to manoeuvre him across roads and past other people – although most of the passers-by cross the street, clearly avoiding us. I feel him shiver and huddle further into my side, clenching his fingers into my side and I can feel the skin bruise beneath the strong digits. I tilt my head, pressing my face against the top of his head in a gentle kiss, knowing that it wasn’t the sex that drained him because I can feel the exhaustion, the  _hunger_ , gripping my insides too.  
  
“Hey, let’s sit down a sec, yeah?” I whisper into his hair, spying the bench off to the side and half dragging him across to the cold metal seat and dropping him onto it. He immediately curls into himself, wrapping his arms around his body to keep himself warm and I sigh as I slide my jacket off, wrapping it round his shoulders. He slips his arms in the sleeves straight away, pulling it tight and smiling slightly. I drop into the seat next to him and he presses into my side, eyes lidded with fatigue.  
  
We sit together for a while before we hear the soft moan of a man in pain ahead of us, his eyes dart up and we glance at each other worriedly. The man is splayed across the kerb, clutching at his head and his foot trapped in an open gutter.   
  
I can smell it.  
  
I can smell the warmth and the desire leaking from between his fingers, the ruby red drops dripping steadily onto the worn tarmac below. It’s beautiful, hearing the blood flooding through a man’s veins like tributaries flowing into rivers and hitting a high-speed current. Every little movement restricting flow in small areas before being allowed to run again and rushing through like a dam has been broken. I lick my lips in anticipation, imagining the sweet liquid touching my skin, streaming into my mouth and flooding my senses once more.  
  
Drip.  
  
Drip.  
  
Drip.  
  
The world around me slows as Brendon pulls himself to his feet, seemingly growing taller and more dominant. He bares his teeth slightly, but it’s not a smile as he flexes every limb menacingly, the leer emerging on his lips. The young man in good looking with bright blue eyes glistening in pain as we lean over him. His skin is pale, making the crimson blood stand out like ink spreading across parchment. He’s beautiful.  
  
I pout my lips in mock concern, furrowing my brow slightly and sink down to rock on the balls of my feet, pulling my face closer to his. “Hey mister, you okay?”  
  
His eyes flash open in panic, before softening and frowning as he takes in my appearance. “I’m…shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”  
  
“Costume party.” I shrug as false explanation with a gentle smile on my face. “Let’s get you up.” I raise my eyes to Brendon who reaches down to gather the man in his arms. The man wraps his arms around Brendon’s neck, and I see him reel slightly at such close contact as the wound stays tantalisingly close to his nostrils. His eyes roll back slightly as he restrains himself, stiffening and trying not to breathe.  
  
“My foot’s still stuck, do you think you could jus-“ The sentence is cut short by an ear splitting yell filling our ears as Brendon pulls the man's foot from the gutter with a resounding snap. The foot hangs limp, the edge of the broken bone straining against the skin, ready to break through. The area is darkening in colour as blood moves forward, ready to spring free at any moment. As he shifts slightly, I can see the bone move slowly, stretching the skin more but not piercing it. His whimpering sends pleasurable chills down my spine and I take a moment to collect my breath before standing up to face both men. I lift my finger and trace it down the side of the man’s face, feeling him shiver in sudden panic. The skins cold beneath my finger and I lean forwards breathing hot air across his face before pulling back and looking up. He’s whimpering and flinching from my touch, confused and scared but unable to move as Brendon holds him tighter, carrying him through the gates of the park and dropping him under a tree.  
  
As soon as his body hits the ground, he’s struggling, pulling himself to his feet in an attempt to escape, but I bring my boot down heavily on his chest, pinning him before dropping to straddle his hips. He opens his mouth to scream, but I place my finger on his lips, gesturing for him to be quiet. I tear open his shirt as I bring my lips closer to his forehead and I feel his body trembling beneath me. I touch the blood with the tip of my tongue, rolling my eyes and smiling, a small moan escaping me. The warmth stays on my tongue and I roll the taste around my mouth, savouring the flavour as I gently sway.  
  
Shifting up his body a bit, I notice how ragged his breathing has gotten and I smile, tilting my head towards him as I bare my sharpened incisors at him. He lets out a blood-curdling scream but Brendon reaches out a hand and slaps him from where he’s sat cross-legged behind our victim’s head. As he removes his hand, he replaces it with feather light kisses across his face. As he reaches the blood, I hear him take a sharp, deep breath and I see his lips curl backwards but he tries to restrain himself once more. I hear the man moan once more with a whisper of “My foot”, and I look back to see the white bone protruding from his ankle. The fresh blood tarnishing the white surface reminds me of a painting I once saw. Rose and Ivory.  
  
I barely have time to collect my thoughts before Brendon is pressing forwards, ripping into the side of his face, tearing at the flesh like a carnivorous animal denied of food. His eyes are clouded with ecstasy and he pulls his victims head closer to his face, pushing deeper into the wounds before the pain-filled screams get the better of him. He licks a trail up to the mouth, running his hand down the open jaw, biting into the tongue and twisting his hand in the process. The jaw detaches from the rest of the skull with a crack and the screams turn into manageable moans.  
  
I press my own mouth to the man's chest, nipping the soft skin and I feel his body shake with the sobs. I can taste the fear and desperation leaking from his pores and smile a smile full of eagerness. My teeth barely brush the skin before I widen my own strong jaw, biting down harshly and tearing flesh away from his body.   
  
Screams die down as I look at the body in front of me. Blood drips down from his hairline, leaving trails across his face and covering his eyes. He’s blinking furiously trying to rid his eyes of the blood and tear mix that blinds him and his hands are gripping tightly at the grass by my knees. I shift slightly, pressing down on top of his fingers and hearing the bones break below my body, causing a shiver to run through my body at the sound of his whimpers. The skin is deformed and pulled back where I’ve bitten him, muscle visible through the teeth marks and the crimson liquid is pooling on his stomach from where it runs down the planes of his body, I beckon Brendon forward to have his share of the blood before springing forwards.   
  
My teeth rip through muscle and skin as I hear a satisfying crack of bone beneath my splayed hands. His ribs collapse in on themselves from where I’m leaning, and his cries quell into desperate gasps, his lungs punctured beyond repair. My fingers are tearing the flesh away, my eyes feasting on the beautiful exposed body in front of me. Bones are crushed beyond recognition and muscle is torn from the skin, ready for me to dine, with the final beat of his heart reminding me I have a fresh muscle dripping with blood.  
  
As I roll my head on my neck in preparation, I catch a glimpse of Brendon and see the smirk adorning his features. I lick my lips once more as darkness engulfs me.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The taste of fresh meat floods my senses, cutting me off from the outside world.

I wake up naked on Brendon’s couch. I blink a few times, clutching my head as the light burns my eyes before sitting up. I notice my arms first, covered in small scars, scars that look like… bites? They look like someone had bitten me. They weren’t there yesterday.  
  
The second thing I notice is that I’m not alone. Brendon is sprawled –equally as naked - face down on the coffee table in front of me, cups and magazines carelessly pushed to the floor either side of him. Bite marks, like my own, embellish his back, matched with a hand print placed across his lower back. Blood is smeared in long trails across his shoulders, a red splatter spread across his neck. I reach over to touch the hand print, running my fingers softly over the bruised flesh and wondering how it got there. I tilt my hand slightly in line with the mark to compare when I’m taken from my thoughts by a sharp three knocks on the door.  
  
I stand up, stretching slightly and grab a cushion to hold in front of me, lest I offend anyone before I notice that the door is wide open already, bloody hand prints littering the door frame and the wall behind it, framing a very stricken old lady. I hesitantly step forwards, recognising her as the old woman who always looks down on us in disgust.  
  
“Um, hi. Yeah.. Can I help you?” I ask, keeping a firm grip on my cushion. She looks me up and down, taking in my attire with a look of horror on her face and I glance down. Like Brendon, I have blood everywhere, creating the effect that last night we murdered someone.  
  
There’s a pause where she composes herself, keeping her eyes pointedly fixed on my face before replying, “You can, uh… put some pants on, I think. It’s- it’s inappropriate to answer the door like that.” She stumbles over her words and I laugh inwardly at her uncomfortable response but smile apologetically at her. I back into the other room once again, locating my jeans and throwing them on before returning to her.  
  
“Sorry about that.” Mega-watt grin. “I’ve just woken up.” Lean against the door. “So how can I help you?”  
  
“I heard a lot of commotion last night, I wanted to make sure everything was okay.” She looks around once more, taking in the blood stains and broken glass. “You should probably clean this up.” Her voice is getting smaller as my smile grows wider. “With bleach…”  
  
“We don’t have any bleach. Do you think we could borrow some?” My stomach growls and she blinks.  
  
“Of course, let me get it. Do you boys need breakfast too? I can bring some toast or some eggs?” How sweet.  
  
“I think we’re okay, but if you wouldn’t mind helping us with the cleaning, we can pay you for it.” My grin is at its fullest, the skin stretched tight across my face. She just nods and backs out nervously.  
  
Brendon is still sprawled across the coffee table and I wake him with a swift kick to the side, jolting him enough to fall to the floor. “Breakfast time.” I grin, picking up his clothes and throwing them at him before replacing my own shirt.  
  
I don’t know why, I don’t know what causes it, but whatever happened last night has made my confidence grow and my ego swell. I’m in charge; I am in complete control of anything and everything that happens around me and Brendon is right here with me.  
  
I do remember parts of last night, little memories that excite me. I know that I’m not the same anymore and that I can be dangerous, I keep seeing the man on the floor ripped open and instead of being disgusted, I smile. I caused that, I made it happen, I can do anything that I want.  
  
Brendon groans from his place on the floor, still not moving and I laugh. “Long night?”  
  
“You should know, you kept me up.” He’s pulling himself to his feet, clutching his side and almost doubling straight back over. “I feel like shit.”  
  
I smirk, hearing another bout of knocking. This time it’s lighter and quicker, no rhythm behind it. I can smell fresh blood and I head to meet our guest with a growl of “even better.”  
  
Standing in the doorway is a tall, blonde young woman. Shorter than short shorts resting low on her delicate hips, a tight t-shirt small enough to leave a thin sliver of smooth, tanned flesh on show. One manicured hand rests flat against the doorframe, whilst the other cradles a bottle of bleach and a cloth. Her lips are laced with a fresh slick of lip gloss and she smiles, lifting one side of her mouth into a perfect crescent. The smile shifts her face, crinkling her green eyes where the light glints off them in a seductive tease.  
  
“I hear two good-looking boys need some help.” She lifts a stray piece of hair, tucking it behind her ear as she tilts her head. “Maybe I can be of… uh, assistance.” Her flirtatious hesitation amuses me, so practiced by the resident slut.   
  
As I breathe in the mouth-watering scent of perfume and untainted blood, my eyes linger on the small dip of cleavage exposed to my feasting eyes, before I lift my gaze to meet her own eyes. “Green eyes, huh… So rare, so beautiful.” I whisper, hearing the short giggle leave her lips as I lean in tantalisingly close. My tongue darts out, licking my dry lips and I hold my breath, restraining my need for touch.  
  
A warning hand snakes around my waist, holding me away as Brendon joins me at the door. Her eyes glance at our contact, pulling back a tiny bit in confusion but Brendon stops her. “I could do such illegal things to you.” He breathes, letting go of me and taking her hand. “My names Brendon, can I call you ‘Gorgeous’?” My attentive gaze breaks as I laugh at the line.   
  
“It’s Isabelle, but you can call me what you want.” She doesn’t seem fazed by the clichéd remark as they turn their back on me and head to the kitchen. My eyes roam her body and I follow, wishing my head to stop imagining her writhing beneath me, blood trickling from wounds placed across her flesh and her hair stained crimson from the pooling liquid.  
  
She props herself against the counter, her body stretching out as she deposits the bleach next to our sink. Brendon excuses himself and leaves and I instinctively push forwards, pressing my body against her own, my hands either side of her waist. I’m pinning her tight to the side, my nose nuzzling into her neck. The aroma is almost unbearable, my body twisting against hers as I try to control my emotions. Her arms wrap around my body, pulling me closer to her.  
  
She moans.  
  
That’s all it takes before I kiss her. The lip gloss slides between our mouths, making the kiss messy and fuelled by unadulterated lust. My hands move, holding onto her hips and sliding beneath her top. I run my hands up her smooth skin, pulling back for a moment and looking at her swollen lips. Brendon appears beside us, dropping some objects on the counter as our lips reconnect and he holds onto both of us. He carefully lifts us from the side, pushing himself behind Isabelle and wrapping his body around us. His face presses forwards, presumably kissing her neck and I can feel his hands run around her front. Isabelle gasps sharply and flinches slightly and I lift one hand to place a restraining hand on Brendon’s chest. He takes the hint and pulls his face away from her neck, instead latching onto her ear. I can feel both bodies moving beneath me, her hands slipping along my shirt and her hips being pushed closer to mine.  
  
Brendon’s hand wraps around my fingers, pulling one of my hands away from Isabelle’s body. I feel something cold being pressed into my hand and open my eyes briefly to see the carving knife I’m now holding. Pulling away, I let Brendon take a hold of her t-shirt and wait for her body to be exposed before unclasping her bra in a swift movement. The clothes fall to the floor and she grasps my own shirt, lifting it from my body.  
  
I panic slightly, almost dropping the knife, but Brendon’s eyes meet mine as he takes a hold of the handle, allowing my hands to come into Isabelle’s view momentarily. I’m stood in front of them both, letting my shirt drop and her smirk drops. I’m still covered in scars and blood-stains, all being scrutinised by her concerned gaze.   
  
There’s tension in her eyes and I frown, running a finger down her jaw and tracing her lips. “Ignore them, I’m fine. Are you okay? Should we stop? I know, I know it’s all so sudden.” I whisper, letting concern mask my features. She just shakes her head.  
  
“We need… we need a safe word. I think.” She responds. I pull her away from Brendon with a smile, kissing her lightly. She deepens the kiss immediately, reaching behind her and latching her fingers onto Brendon’s jeans. I hear the crumple of denim as they slide to the ground and I pull her away, lifting her onto the table. She pushes me back a little back and opens her mouth to speak before noticing the knife in Brendon’s hand. She squirms a little with another whisper of “safe word”, but I hold her tight as Brendon circles around her back, letting the silver blade run against the skin. He doesn’t press hard enough to draw blood, but she gasps, shuddering slightly.  
  
“We want to play a game.” I whisper, reaching for some cheese wire and duct tape off the side. She has no time to move before I’m wrapping the cheese wire over her crossed wrists, her palms facing upwards. The tiniest movement she makes will cut cleanly into the veins placed so close to the surface of the delicate skin. I hold it in place with the duct tape to ensure she can’t escape it. She’s stilled, and I can smell the blood being spilt from her wrists. So beautiful, it’s metallic tang enticing me.  
  
“Let me go.” Her voice is shaking slightly behind the quiet confidence, making my mouth twitch into a sadistic smile. She’s beginning to doubt all sexual intentions. “Let me go, I don’t know the safe word! Sushi. Oklahoma. Just please! Let me out now, I’m not comfortable with this!”  
  
“You won’t need a fucking safe word, now shut the fuck up!” I grip her jaw as Brendon forces the knife between her teeth. She lets out a gargled scream as the blade massacres her tongue, ripping through the muscle and forcing the fresh blood back down her throat. Her body jolts, twisting viscously as she tries to pull away from the sharp utensil. He pulls it away roughly, slicing the side of her mouth and watching the blood flow with a ravenousness look adorning his features. “Please, honey. Stop complaining.” I whisper lightly as I force my mouth against hers, sucking on the wounds and swallowing the sweet, sweet blood. The coppery liquid runs down my throat, only driving my hunger to a new level. Her screams are muffled, barely noticeable as I lick the inside of her mouth, gathering the fresh flow and drinking.  
  
I feel a hand twisting in my hair where Brendon holds me, pulling back harshly. “Not yet, I have bigger plans for her.” His face is twisted in emotion, the hunger and restraint clearly affecting him heavily. I take his hands, pulling him to me and pecking his lips gently.  
  
“Relax, let’s have fun, yeah?” His lips seek mine again, lifting traces of blood from my lips before turning back to our victim. Her eyes are weary and she’s struggling to keep them open.  
Her screams have stopped almost completely, just the occasional bubble of frothy mess where she keeps spitting out the blood and her wrists are dripping from where the tight wire has dug into her flesh.  
  
She is so irresistible.  
  
I lift her shaking arms towards my mouth, lapping up the metallic blood and groaning in satisfaction. I pull back unwillingly to let Brendon continue. He lifts a sheet from the side, placing it over her features and wrapping it tightly around her face. She yells out, each noise being stifled by the loss of tongue and I almost feel an emotion vaguely connected to pity for her. Pity which is immediately over come by merciless craving for food.  
  
Red liquid pools and stains around the indent of her mouth, clashing with the stark white sheet that’s suffocating her. Her head is twisting around as her muffled screams pierce the air. The fear radiating from her body arouses me and I smile, leaning forwards and licking a stripe along her neck. The blood is dripping down to meet my tongue and I lap at it hungrily, holding her body still as I lower myself on top of her, pushing her back onto the table. I nip along her shoulder blades as she writhes uncontrollably before her knee comes into contact with my balls and I recoil in pain.  
  
“Fuck!” I scream, almost sliding off the table and dropping to the floor. I curl into the foetal position as I hold onto myself precariously. Brendon’s feet come into my view for a moment before he heaves himself onto the table in place of me, a carving fork held in a blood covered hand.  
  
He plunges it forwards and she screams.  
  
She screams so loud, I feel the table shaking with vibrations as I lift myself to face them. So loud that we don’t hear the door opening. I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and I turn, but there’s nothing there. If someone was around, they’ve left.  
  
The carving fork is protruding from her eye socket, rising from the dark stained sheet. Brendon runs a finger around the material, gathering blood and holding it to my lips, making me groan in satisfaction. My dick twitches and I throw myself into him, holding him tight and pulling him from Isabelle as my tongue runs along his lips, forcing them open. Our tongues duel, battling for dominance and I shudder as his growing erection brushes mine.  
  
“Not yet. Not… not yet. Ryan, we don’t have the time. Fuck, we don’t have time.” He’s whispering against my mouth, pulling back to force out each word between lust filled kisses. “I have more, we have more to do.” A final peck on his lips and I let him go. His eyes are black with pure desire, the gentle flicker of amusement crinkling his eyes when he turns back to the writhing body. She’s getting weaker.   
  
I curl my fingers around the fork, pulling lightly on it and listening to the pop as the eyeball detaches itself from the socket, nerves snapping under the strain. The eye gets stopped by the sheet, pressing into the material and making it stretch over the mangled organ. I pull the fork away completely and throw it towards the sink, wrapping my arms around Brendon’s body as we look at the girl in front of us. I hear the longing sigh escape his lips and I smile against the shell of his ear as I whisper, “Go for it.”  
  
Moving quicker than the human eye would ever be able to perceive, he’s back on top of her, teeth tearing away at the flesh on her stomach, ripping into the skin and destroying the muscle below. His back moves in a slow rhythm, his shoulders circling up and down as he bites more and more. I can hear the groans escaping him as he feasts and I join him, sinking his teeth into her thigh.  
  
The taste of fresh meat floods my senses, cutting me off from the outside world. I can hear nothing but the squelching sound of blood against my teeth, feel nothing except the liquid splashing onto myself, smell nothing except the metallic aroma. My eyes are closed in ecstasy as I bite until I reach the bone. My teeth gnaw through and I spit out small bones fragments as I move down her leg, feverishly attacking her as I swallow the beautiful meat.  
  
BANG  
  
Hands are circling my body, lifting me away and I yell out with an animalistic growl. I writhe in the grip, ripping through the skin with my nails and teeth until the stranger releases me. As I hit the ground, I turn to see Brendon being lifted by the police, a hand held tightly across his mouth. Leaping forwards, my body twists into the officer and I bite into his side, hands blurring into nothing and I rip the arm from the body in a swift movement, hearing the thud of Brendon landing next to me.   
  
We run.  
  
Run fast.  
  
We never knew if Isabelle survived or not. Paramedics and police rushed by us as we left, screams and shouts filling our ears. I hope that against all odds, she did survive because even though we need to maim others to survive, there’s still a sense of humanity and morals left in us. We met a few other travellers like us. Travellers who fight to survive. Some are friendly, others are cruel, some find it harder than us, others find it easier. We stay with them when we’re on their territory, but we never stay in contact after we leave.  
  
We never returned to our hometown, how can we after everything we’ve done?  
  
They know who we are, they know what we can do. We are still more powerful than anyone could imagine, feasting as often as we need and living in the shadows. We never stay in one town long. Not long enough to be caught, but long enough to make our mark. There are news bulletins about us, we see them. We’re linked to murders in towns left behind long ago.  
  
But we’re never found and we never will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the entire thing. I have more in a series to come, like what happens next so if you like it then let me know and I'lll upload more :)


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